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A fusillade of rifle-shots interrupted him. Along a fifty or sixty yard front the Kid's and del Rio's men had crept in closer to Brocky's arroyo, worming their way upon their stomachs, and now fired together. There came a rattling reply from the creek, the shouting of cowboys. "We'll take those fellows first," ordered Norton quickly. "They will see us when we climb that little rise.
The English also, even in their writings, have contributed to spread the ridiculous idea, that Russia entertained views against the independence of the Sandwich Islands; and that Rio Rio's voyage was only undertaken for the purpose of imploring the assistance of England against our government.
The captain conferred with his officers a moment, then called: "We are going in to careen ourselves. That fellow struck us on the water-line. We are homeward bound, and Rio's too far to run back. Follow us in; but if you lose sight of us, it's a small bay, latitude nine fifty-one forty south, rocks to the north, lowland to the south, good water at the entrance, and a fine beach.
You would please me very much by doing it; and certainly not dis please me by refusing to do it. Your broadest 'no' would not sound half so strange to me as my 'little crooked thing' does to you; but you see everybody in the world is fanciful about something, and why not E.B.B.? Dear Mr. Kenyon, I have a book of yours M. Rio's.
And across each bag was stamped "Packard Springs Bank." Del Rio's eyes had wandered a moment to Cutter and the evidence. Then they came back to Norton, filled with black malevolence. One did not need to understand the southern language to grasp the meaning of the words muttered under his breath.
"I'm going to get del Rio." "I don't believe . . ." began Struve. "Seeing is believing," returned Norton lightly. "Come on." Followed by the two men, Norton went direct to del Rio's room, at the front of the house, just across the hall from Virginia's office. At del Rio's quick "Entra," he threw open the door and went in.
"Yes, I am. Kid Rickard didn't do it." Norton eased himself in the saddle, thoughtfully regarding Galloway. And then, very abruptly: "How about your friend, del Rio?" It was the third time that he had mentioned del Rio's name in this connection and to the third man.
For instance, after dwelling with evident zest on the nature of the metaphysical problems lying at the root of art in general, and Christian art in particular, the writer goes on to set the difficulty of M. Rio's task against its attractiveness, to insist on the intricacy of the investigations involved, and on the impossibility of making the two instruments on which their success depends the imaginative and the analytical faculty work harmoniously and effectively together.
They're pouring down and shooting as they come; Brocky's in between. . . ." "How many men are with him?" "About twenty. But . . . my God! Rickard's men and del Rio's are shooting from the east and the others are shooting from the west . . . poor old Tommy Rudge got shot in the stomach and Denny Blain is down and . . ." "Del Rio and Rickard didn't come in machines did they?" "No.
And how, lastly, can M. Rio's school of critics escape the charge of Manichean contempt for God's world and man, not as ascetics have fancied him, but as God has made him, when they think it a sufficient condemnation of a picture to call it naturalistic; when they talk and act about art as if the domain of the beautiful were the devil's kingdom, from which some few species of form and elements were to be stolen by Christian painters, and twisted from their original evil destination into the service of religion?
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